Click
by Some1tookmyname
Summary: One noise, one tiny little sound, can change the future in an instant. But will it? A story in two parts.
1. The Beginning

_The lovely RositaLG has informed me this story made her throw her laptop. I advice against that, but I hope it makes you feel like you want to in all the very best ways._

_Thanks jadedrepartee for the beta work._

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_**The Beginning**_

* * *

**click** [klik]

_**noun**_

a slight, sharp sound

The click of a camera.

The click of a computer mouse.

The click of a lock.

Sounds everyone knows. Regular sounds. Good sounds.

Then there is the kind of click every soldier knows. Every agent knows. Every bomb squad member knows. The kind of click that haunts them.

It's the kind of click Seeley Booth hasn't heard in years.

Until he hears it right behind him.

And turns around to see his partner knows exactly what it means, too.

"Booth…" The color drains from her face as she whispers his name.

"Bones, don't move, okay? Just…stay still, alright?" He can barely breathe, but the words need to be said.

It is the click of a trigger that begins their nightmare.


	2. The Middle and the End

_Y'all should thank jadedrepartee for working probably even harder than I did to bring you the rest of this story in a timely manner. I know I owe her, big time!_

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_**5 seconds in**_

He takes a step towards her.

"_NO_! Booth! Stop! You can't be sure exactly where you've stepped and we don't know how many more there might be. You have to stay there." Her tone is urgent and her words are logical.

But it is his instinct to go to her, to save her somehow, so he takes another step.

"No!"

He stops now and meets her panicked gaze. "Bones…"

"For Christine, please just stay there."

She is right and he knows it. "I'll call the bomb squad. Have them come. They'll bring equipment; do a sweep, disarm the one you're on. We'll get you off that thing, okay?" He tries to sound confident.

She nods almost imperceptibly and whispers, "Okay."

He fishes his phone from his pocket and makes the call.

_**15 minutes in**_

"You have to get out."

Booth's head snaps up from the text message he is reading. "What?"

"Once they've cleared the room and it's safe for you to walk out of here, you can't stay."

"They're on their way." He pockets his phone. "I'm not leaving you." His tone is flat; his anger at the suggestion intensifying with every moment that passes.

"There is a chance I won't walk away from this, Booth. You have to go. We can't leave Christine. I don't want you anywhere near the explosion. She needs you."

"She needs _you, _too_, _Bones_._ She needs both of us."

"But if you can leave, you should."

"The bomb squad is coming. They're sending their best. You'll be fine. We both will."

"Be reasonable, Booth. This thing could detonate."

"You're coming home with me tonight."

She blinks hard. "I love you."

"No. No goodbyes."

"Booth…"

"I love you too, okay? You know I do. So much. But everything is going to be fine. We don't end here. Not like this; alright?"

She nods, a single tear escaping down her face.

"I promise you, this is going to be fine. You'll see."

If he just keeps saying it, maybe they can both believe it's true.

_**97 minutes in**_

"Agent Booth, the rest of the room is clear. You're good to move."

He is moving towards her before the bomb squad agent finishes his sentence

"Please go," she whispers as he gets closer.

"I'm not leaving you in here alone." He is five feet away when her face contorts with fear, so he stops even though everything within him is screaming for him to charge across the room and save her. "You heard the guy earlier. It looks like a small charge device. It's not going to blow the room."

"He said 'probably,'" She says, disguising her fear with a matter-of-fact tone. "It's_ probably_ a small charge device. And he also said disarming it won't be easy. You heard him, Booth. We have to be realistic."

"No! I'm not having this conversation again, Bones."

"We can't leave Christine without both her parents. You know I'm right. You have to leave."

"Neither one of us is leaving Christine today, alright?"

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do and I'm staying here with you until you can step off that thing."

"Logically—"

"No."

"We have to be prepared—"

"You're _going_ to be _fine_."

And he can see in her eyes that she desperately wants to believe him.

_**3 hours in**_

He hasn't left.

The compromise for his proximity is 30 feet, a Kevlar vest and a blast barrier between them.

It feels like miles.

The bomb squad has managed to remove most of the flooring around the area, leaving only the floor tile Brennan is standing on, the device exposed on all sides.

"Definitely small charge," one tech reiterates.

"Yeah. Minimal overall damage," the other agent notes.

"What does that mean?" Brennan asks the men at her feet.

"It won't blow the room, but…"

"I see."

Booth steps around the barrier. "If we use a blast blanket can we get her off that thing?"

"The second she steps off it will detonate. We can't be fast enough with the blanket."

"But you can disarm it, right?" Booth is agitated and pacing now.

"It's not that easy." The lead agent answers. "And we can't get to the top to put direct pressure on it when she steps off. This will take a while."

"She's been standing there for three hours already!"

"Booth, it's okay." Brennan stops the argument before it can even start. "Earlier, you said they are the best. Let them do their jobs."

"How can you be so calm?"

She can tell he is beginning to fray; the tightness around his eyes giving him away. "If I remain emotionally stable it is easier to stay physically still."

"God…" He looks up, and she wonders if he is praying.

"I'm starting to lose feeling in my legs," she confesses in a whisper.

He drops his gaze to hers and she can see the panic setting in. "Hang on, Bones. Just, hang on."

"I'm trying," she tells him, then takes a deep breath. "I need you to do something for me."

"I'll do anything but leave."

"I need you to get Cam."

"Cam?"

"Yes. I need to speak with her."

"What, _now_?"

"Yes. I believe she's here, correct? She brought some equipment from the Jeffersonian."

"Yeah. She's outside."

"Please get her for me."

Booth hesitates, but only for a second.

"Yeah. Okay. I'll get her." He takes a few steps backwards, keeping her in view, before he turns and breaks into a jog, anxious to get back before he's ever even gone.

Brennan looks down at the two men working near her feet. "Agent Booth is optimistic."

"I heard," responds the agent in charge.

"Should he be?"

The two men exchange a glance before the one in charge looks up at her. "It's hard to say, Ma'am."

She nods and lets out a shaky breath as the clock on the wall clicks over into hour four.

_**4 hours and 4 minutes in**_

"Booth, I need you to call the daycare," she tells him as he reenters the room with Cam.

"Why?"

"I promised Christine I would pick her up early today. We were supposed to go to the library. I told her I'd pick her up at four and she knows where that is on the clock. She'll be waiting. We need to call and let her know I can't be there."

He looks torn, unwilling to leave again, and opens his mouth to argue, but before he can, Cam speaks.

"I'll stay until you're back."

Booth glances at Cam before turning back to his partner. "Okay. We'll take her to the library together on Saturday."

She smiles, fighting back tears. "That sounds good."

"Yeah." He leaves, jogging out of the room once again.

As soon as Booth is out of earshot, Cam turns to her. "You did that to get rid of him."

"Yes. I need to speak with you privately, excluding the bomb squad agents at my feet, of course."

"Of course." Cam half laughs. "I'm sure they aren't listening."

"No. I certainly hope their focus is on other things."

"What's going on?"

"If this doesn't end well—"

"Whoa. No. This is going to end fine. There's a lot of optimism out there." Cam jerks her thumb over her shoulder towards the door.

"Be that as it may, you are I are pragmatic people. We certainly understand that one of the outcomes here is my death."

"Dr. Brennan—"

"There will be tests that will be run afterwards. Reports that will be written."

"I…I won't do any of those tests. I can't."

"I realize that. You said as much after Vincent. And while we both know Booth shouldn't read those reports and test results, we also know that he will. And when he does, he will ask you to interpret the medical reports for him."

"Okay."

"When he asks you what those test results mean, I'm going to need you to lie."

Cam's eyes narrow and it only takes a few seconds before understanding dawns. "You're pregnant."

Brennan nods, her eyes tearing up. "Seven weeks."

"And Booth doesn't know."

"I was going to tell him tonight." She pauses to take a deep breath when her voice breaks. "He shouldn't have to grieve for two of us. Not if I can spare him from it. He shouldn't have to live with that kind pain for the rest of his life."

"So you want me to misinterpret the results to him."

"Yes. I know it's a lot to ask—"

"I'll do it."

"Thank you." Brennan swallows and swipes at one errant tear. "It's been a pleasure working with you, Cam. You've been a good friend."

"We have a long relationship ahead of us, Dr. Brennan. Personally and professionally."

Brennan cannot find the words to express how much she hopes Cam is right.

_**5 hours and 17 minutes in**_

"Alright, Dr. Brennan, here's what we're going to do: we can't get between your foot and the device directly, the tile over top of the bomb prevents that, so we're going to insert a thin strip of metal underneath the tile, next to the device. When I say go, you are going to step off the device while we shove the metal over the trigger, under the tile, to keep it from detonating by replacing your weight. It has to happen as one fluid motion, okay?"

"Her legs are jelly. There's no way she can move fast enough." Despite Brennan's repeated pleas, Booth is near her once again.

"It's all we've got, Agent Booth. We have to get to the top to disarm it and we can't. As soon as the metal strip is in place and she steps off, we will place the bomb blanket on the device so it can detonate without injury. But we need her off of it first."

"I can do it." She knows she doesn't sound certain at all.

"My partner is suiting up. He's going to help you."

"I'll do it." Booth says from behind the agents.

"No!" Brennan's tone is sharp.

"Bones—"

"No. _No!_ We are not going to argue about this. We are taking NO chances here. At the very least_ you_ are going to tuck our daughter into bed tonight. I will _not_ have her tucked in by Angela or my father because your stubbornness killed you. That cannot happen, Booth and you know it."

"It's my job to protect you."

"You can't. Not this time. The best thing you can do now is protect Christine. Please, Booth. I'm begging you. Get behind the barrier."

She can see that he wants to argue. It is against everything in him to turn away from her in a dangerous situation.

"She's only about to turn five, Booth. She needs her father."

He doesn't answer for a moment, and she can tell he is weighing his options before he gives in. "For Christine."

"Yes."

"Okay."

"Thank you." She takes a deep breath and blinks hard against the tears welling in her eyes.

"Bones—"

"You have to take her to the Nutcracker."

"What?"

"At Christmas time. Christine's been enjoying her dance class so much, I wanted to take her to see the Nutcracker. You have to take her."

"Bones, don't—"

Her eyes fill with tears. "I bought her a tutu to wear. It's pink. It wasn't a rational purchase, I know. Christmas is still far away and I've tried to steer her away from such stereotypical color choices, but she just loves pink. It's in a box at the top of her closet. I know you hate ballet, Booth, but she will love it. Promise me you'll take her."

"I can't, Bones. I'm not doing this. No goodbyes, remember?"

"And you know those eggs you make? The ones you say you're famous for? She feeds them to Gretzky when you aren't looking. I've always let her. Don't be angry when you catch her. She doesn't want to hurt your feelings."

"Please, don't do this…"

"She's been talking a lot about the art they've been doing in school. Angela wants to buy her a paint set for her birthday. I told her they have to be washable. You should let them spend time together; let Angela teach her some techniques. It will be good for her."

"Bones…"

"And make sure you help her remember me. She's only four. At best her memories of me will be hazy without further stimulation. You can show her pictures and play videos so she can hear my voice. And…and tell her about me. I want her to know who I was. I don't want her to forget. I want her to know that I love her."

"Agent Booth?" The bomb squad leader, clad in a protective suit, interrupts, drawing Booth's attention. "It's time. We're ready."

Booth looks back at her and she attempts to put on a brave face despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. He doesn't want to promise, because promising means he could lose her. Promising means acknowledging what could happen when she steps off the bomb.

She can see the moment when he finally lets himself acknowledge that stepping off that bomb means she could die.

"I love you." His whisper is hoarse with checked emotion.

"Promise me you will try to be happy again, Booth. You deserve that."

"I can promise the Nutcracker and the eggs and the art. And I will never let her forget you. But I can't do happy without you, Bones." He shakes his head, his eyes shining with tears. "I don't know how."

"These years have been good."

"They've been the best."

"I love you, too." She is trembling now, both from weak legs and overloaded emotions. "Please go, now. Get safely behind the shield. I won't move until I know you're out of harm's way."

But instead, he steps forward and reaches out to brush her cheek with his fingertips.

"This can still end fine. I have faith that it will. Tell me you do, too."

She swallows hard and nods. "I believe that it can."

He cups her chin now, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Hold on to that. This is gonna be okay. We're going to go home together and have dinner with our baby girl. Tuck her in." He smiles. "I'll sing her that song about the old lady and the fly and you can tell us all about how it's physically impossible that one woman swallow a cat, much less a horse. And she'll laugh that laugh that makes you laugh and I'll laugh, too, because our life is so good, Bones. And we'll be okay." He drops his hand and steps backwards, and she feels a sudden chill at the loss of contact. "We're gonna be okay."

She nods, watching him as he walks backwards to the barrier, never breaking eye contact.

When Booth reaches the barrier, she looks at the bomb techs. "Whenever you are ready."

The men get into position, one at her feet, one beside her, ready to help her move and one waiting to the side with the bomb blanket.

She locks eyes with Booth and sees every bit of strength she needs there.

"Ok, Dr. Brennan when I say 'three' you step off the tile. Ready?"

She waits until Booth ducks behind the barrier where she can no longer see him, then answers, "Yes."

So long ago, Booth had closed his eyes against an expected explosion and she'd made fun of him.

Now, as she closes her eyes and braces for what is about to come, she thinks of that and finally she understands.

"Okay, here we go, Dr. Brennan. On three. One...two…three!"

She lifts her foot as well as she can and immediately feels herself being swept, first forward, and then down to the ground; the weight of the bomb squad agent on top of her.

There is a muffled explosion behind her, loud enough to make her ears ring as the sound echoes through the cavernous room.

But the ringing isn't enough to drown out the words that come from where she'd been standing not 30 seconds before.

"We're clear!"

The weight of the agent is off of her and almost instantly she is being gathered up Booth's lap; his arms holding her close against his chest.

She hears sobbing and it takes a moment to realize the sound is coming from her.

"It's over, Baby. It's over. I've got you." Booth murmurs into her hair, rocking and kissing her. "You're okay, now. "

"I'm okay." She fists his shirt and clings to him, breathing him in. "We're okay. We can both go home."

"Yes. We can. We're going home."

She pulls back to look at him. "Home to our daughter."

"Yeah." He blinks back his own tears and pushes some hair out of her face. "Home to Christine."

The bomb squad agent in charge approaches, tucking his helmet under his arm. "The paramedics are on their way in, Dr. Brennan. The only place you're going is the hospital to get checked out."

"I'm fine, really."

"You're shaking like a leaf and you've been on your feet in the same position for over five hours. At the very least, you're weak and dehydrated, but you also just got landed on by 250 pounds of agent and ballistic gear." The agent looks at her pointedly, his eyes dropping to her abdomen for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "Let the paramedics take you to the hospital and then you can go home and assure your daughter that her mommy is fine."

"That's probably a good idea, Bones," Booth agrees, rubbing her legs to get the blood moving.

Brennan gives the agent an almost imperceptible nod before turning back to Booth. "Now that the initial shock is wearing off, perhaps you're both right. It is probably best to go get checked out. I have to admit to feeling a little dehydrated."

The agent smiles and nods. "I'll go make sure they bring up some saline and an IV and give you two a minute alone."

They watch the agent walk away, and Booth turns back to Brennan, dropping another kiss in her hair as she leans against him.

"Do I still have to go to the ballet?"

She laughs, then, out of relief that it's over and fear of what is to come as the stretcher is rolled into the room.

_**7 hours and 42 minutes in**_

The doctor closes the door behind him, medical chart in hand. "Everything looks pretty good, as far as I can see, Dr. Brennan. No broken bones, no concussion, no severe abrasions of any kind."

Brennan nods as Booth squeezes her hand. "So she's okay, right?" He asks.

"Yes, it certainly seems so," The doctor motions to the bed. "How are your legs?"

"Sore." Brennan admits. "Weak. But the feeling is coming back into them, so I suspect they will be fine."

"There is no reason they shouldn't be." He sets down her chart and pushes a machine over to her bedside. "Ready for one last test before we cut you loose?"

"Yes." She adjusts her gown, rolling it up towards her chest.

"What are you looking for?" Booth asks.

"Just internal things." The doctor pushes some buttons and picks up a wand. "I need to be sure everything is as it should be."

Gel is squirted onto Brennan's belly, and the doctor begins to glide the wand across her abdomen.

When he stops, a grainy image fills the screen; the tiniest little flutter of the tiniest kind of heartbeat.

Booth leans forward to stare at the screen. "Is that…" He looks at Brennan, who is smiling through more tears.

"We're going to have a baby," she tells him.

A grin crosses his face, ear to ear, as he stands up out of his chair beside her bed. Leaning over her he rests his forehead against hers. "Another tiny, little you," he says with awe.

"Perhaps a small you, this time."

He kisses her then, so thankful that a day that could have ended in tragic loss is instead ending with a miracle.

"Is the baby aright?" Booth asks, turning to the doctor.

"Everything looks perfect."

"You hear that, Bones?" He looks back at his partner. "She's perfect."

"Or he."

Booth grins and kisses her again.

"Would you two like a picture of your baby?" The doctor asks.

"Yeah, that would be great," answers Booth, never taking his eyes off his partner's.

She cups his face in her palm, her eyes focused on his. "A picture would be wonderful, thank you."

"Sure thing. Let me just zoom in here a little bit for you…"

_Click._

**~End~**


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